南开大学 外国语学院 美国文学课件《乌鸦》赏析.docx

南开大学 外国语学院 美国文学课件乌鸦赏析 Poes poetic theories are remarkable in their clarity about even if they lack what Joseph Wood Krutch terms “intellectual detachment” and “catholicity of taste.” These are best elucidated in his “the Philosophy of Composition” and “ The Poetic Principle.” The poem, he says, should be short, readable at one sitting ( or as long as “The Raven”). Its chief aim is beauty, namely, to produce a feeling of beauty in the reader. Beauty aims at “an elevating excitement of the soul,” (震撼灵魂) and “beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. (无论何种形式的美，只要达到最高境界，就能令敏感的灵魂落下泪来) Thus melancholy is the most legitimate of all the poetic tones.” And he concludes that “the death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.” Poe stresses rhythm, defines true poetry as “the rhythmical creation of beauty,” and declares that“music is the perfection of the soul,or idea,of poetry.” Poe was unabashed to offer his own poem “The Raven”as an illustration of his point. “The Raven” is about 108 lines, perfectly readable at one sitting. A sense of melancholy over the death of a beloved beautiful young woman pervades the whole poem: the portrayal of a young man grieving for his lost Lenore, his grief being turned to madness under the steady one-word repetition of the talking bird introduced right at the beginning of the poem： Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weakry. Over many a quint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more." After he sees the bird, its response - or its imagined one一“nevermore" keeps breaking upon the young mans psychic wound ruthlessly and ceaselessly as do the waves on the sea shore until his depression reaches its breaking point: And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o' er him streaming throve his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out chat shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted-nevermore! The young man, a neurotic on the brink of a mental collapse, outpours his sorrow in his semi-sleep on the appearance of the bird. Poetic imagination externalizes itself in the phantom of a bird and intermingles with it to enhance the effect of tbe tragedy of the bereavement . It is good to note that Poes poems are heavily tinted in a dreamy, hallucinatory color. “The Raven”is a good example as the narrator is in a state of semi-stupor. In addition, Poe insists on an even metrical flow in versification. “The Raven”is a marvel of regularity: W. L.Werner records that, of its 719 complete feet, ，705 are perfect trochees, ten doubtful trochees, and only four clearly dactyls. Poe rarely allows himself twenty-five percent of irregular feet as is found in “Israfel”. For the sake of regularity in rhythm, Poe disapproves of the use of archaisms, contractions, inversions, and similar devices. “The Raven” is thus a perfect illustration of his theory on poetry. The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weakry. Over many a quint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; -vainly I had tried to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow -sorrow for the lost Lenore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Nameless here for evermore And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating " ' Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is and nothing more. Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"-here I opened wide the door; Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that: darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, " Lenore! " Merely this, and nothing more. Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; 'Tis the wind, and nothing more! Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter. In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door- Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night ' s Plutonian shore! Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy hore; For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above I us chamber door, With such mime as "Nevermore.“ But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that ill word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before. " Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " Wondering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store," Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed fastel-so, when Hope he would adjure, Stern Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure- That sad answer, "Nevermore!" But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door ; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore. " This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee Respite-respite and Nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Let me quaff this kind Nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- On this home by Horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore- Is there-is there balm in Gilead?-tell me-tell me, I implore!" Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us-by that God we both adore- Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn , It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore. Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! -quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! " Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o' er him streaming throve his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out chat shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted-nevermore! * The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weakry， Over many a quint and curious volume of forgotten lore， While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door Only this, and nothing more." 有一天阴沉的半夜时分，当我疲乏烦闷， 面对一堆古籍奇书，想把失传的奥秘揭开， 当我打着盹几乎睡着，忽听得一声剥啄， 仿佛有人轻轻敲着，轻敲在我的房门外。 “谁敲门呢?”我喃喃道，“一定有客人来， 别无其他，不必费疑猜。” Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had tried to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow sorrow for the lost Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore. 啊，记得清清楚楚，那是十二月寒冷刺骨， 行将熄灭的余烬投射的鬼影在地上摇摆。 我焦急地盼望天亮，我徒劳地搜寻书章， 想从书中借良方，止住失去丽诺尔的悲哀 天使命名丽诺尔的少女呀多么明媚可爱， 人间此名已永不存在。 And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, " ' Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door ; This it is and nothing more. ” 每幅紫红的丝绸帘幕，发出悲哀的簌簌， 使从未体验的荒诞的恐怖向我袭来； 此刻为了止住心悸，我站着再次说道： “这是有人来找，敲着我的房门要求进来， “这是半夜的客人，敲着我的房门要求进来， 别无其他，不必费疑猜。 Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"-here I opened wide the door; Darkness there, and nothing more. 刹那间我鼓足了勇气，于是我不再迟疑， “我诚恳地请你原谅，”我说，“先生或太太， 事实我是瞌睡朦胧，而你又敲得太轻， 那么模糊不清地敲着敲着，在我房门外， 我不知是否真的听见，”这时我把房门大开， 一无所有，一片阴霾。 Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, " Lenore! " Merely this, and nothing more. 我向这片黑暗张望，我愣在那儿，惊疑慌张， 凡人从不敢做的怪梦纷纷向我袭来， 但周围一片寂静，黑暗中毫无迹象可寻， 唯有低语“丽诺尔”的声音在黑夜里徘徊， 这是我低呼“丽诺尔!”而回声又传了回来， 别无其他，除此以外。 Then into the chamber turning all my soul within me burning, Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; 'Tis the wind, and nothing more! 于是我转身进房，整个灵魂像着了火一样， 马上又听到一声剥啄，响声超过了刚才。 “我敢断定，”我说，“有东西在敲我的窗格， 让我看看那儿有什么，好把这神秘解开， 让我的心稍微静一静，就把这神秘解开， 准是风声，岂有他哉!” Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 这时我大敞了百叶窗，于是，抖动着翅膀， 跨进一只严肃的乌鸦他属于神圣的古代； 他毫无谦恭的礼仪，也毫不停步或迟疑， 却摆出贵族的神气，跑到我房门顶上呆， 在我门顶的智慧女神雅典娜的像上呆， 呆在那里，再不下来。 Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night ' s Plutonian shore! " Quoth the raven, "Nevermore. " 这头乌檀木的大鸟，一副庄严的外表， 他的严肃高雅驱散我的忧思，逗我开怀； “哪怕拔光你的毛发，”我说，“你胆量可真大， 你这阴森森的古代乌鸦，来自夜的彼岸， 请教你的尊姓大名，在夜的冥府之岸！” 乌鸦说道：“永不再。” Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy hore; For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above I us chamber door, With such mime as "Nevermore. 这只难看的大鸟听得懂话，使我大为惊讶， 因为我们不能不承认， 普天下的世人 谁也未曾有幸见到大禽在他的房门上呆， 有幸见到鸟或兽在他门顶的